Azure Pimpernel
by RenkonNairu
Summary: They seek him here, they seek him there, those Galrans seek him everywhere. Is he in Heaven or is he in Hell? That damn illusive Pimpernel!
1. Faceless Phantom

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: I needed a break from my other fan fiction and I do so love _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ by the Baroness Orczy. Love it, love it, love it. If you haven't read it go do so, do it now! Then watch the movie with Anthony Andrews and Jane Seymour, then watch the older black and white movie with Leslie Howard. Then see the play. Oh, god! I love the play! It was what got me interested in the _Pimpernel_ all those years ago…. And my lover is taking me to see it again next week! Hence the inspiration for this new fan fiction.)

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter One: The Faceless Phantom

The girl trembled in fear as the Galran soldier scrutinized her small group of humans, all dressed as slaves. Only three of them actually were slaves however, herself included. The fourth was a free man, one of the noble rebels battling the forces of the evil Empire. At the moment, however, he was aiding in the escape of three lowly slave-girls whom had the misfortune of displeasing the Prince Imperial and had been sentenced to become dinner for the Empire's vile beastmen monstrosities.

"My master would be very displeased if you delay me." The young rebel was saying. He played the part of a submissive slave well, speaking clearly with just the right amount of tremble in his words to give the impression that he was intimidated and kept his eyes downcast, not daring to look up at one of his 'betters'.

The guard handed the rebel back a piece of paper bearing the Imperial skull-crest. "Hmph, everything seems in order. Now get lost, worms!"

He gave the man a very un-gentle kick in the ass and the rebel went stumbling forward to the soldier's great amusement. The three girls followed after him, not one daring to breath until they were past the gate and safely away, disappearing from site around a bend. Once they were sure the soldiers could no longer see them, the quartet cut off the road that lead to the Occult-Witch's beastmem laboratories and instead turned across country towards an outcropping of rocks that hid one of many entrances to a series of underground caves.

Once safely inside, all four humans breathed heavy sighs of relief.

"Thank you." One of them whispered, afraid to raise her voice any more.

"You're welcome." The rebel replied. "But I'm only the instrument of your escape. It was the Azure Pimpernel that told us of your need and thought of the plan."

"You mean, you're not the Azure Pimpernel?" Asked the second.

To this the young rebel merely smiled. "No. My name is Ryou, Shirogane Ryou, and I am but a simple man looking for justice in the world."

…

Ever since word had spread of Golion's several victories over the vile Galra Empire, the slaves belonging to said Empire had been unruly, disobedient, even rebellious. A rebel group had seemed to have sprung up over night performing acts of terrorism all over the capitol. But worst of all… oh, worst of all was a mysterious and illusive figure whom had no name. Slave, traitors and political prisoners would simply be spirited away before their sentences could be carried out and all that would be left was a small paper card bearing no words but rather the image of a small blue flower.

Daibazaal had been told that the flower was called a 'pimpernel', a species that only grew on Earth in the color red and on Altea in the color blue. Thus, the mysterious cad had been named the 'Azure Pimpernel' by the Empire and had a heavy bounty had been placed on his illusive and seemingly invisible head.

…

It was late evening when the shuttle landed in the Castle Gradam's docking bay. It was a small ship, but worthy of space travel and was probably the best thing Ryou and his small rebel cell could find on Galra. Raible stood with Hys beside him, ready to greet and tend to the latest fugitives from the Empire. Ryou, with this help of his illusive partner the Azure Pimpernel had been helping slaves escape the dreaded Imperial capitol for months now. Those that could not (or would not for whatever reason) join up with his little militia were sent to Altea for asylum.

Three young women tiptoed hesitantly down the shuttle's narrow gangplank and Hys immediately pounced on them.

"Oh, you poor babies!" The woman moaned at how thin they looked, how freighted their eyes were. "It must have been so terrible for you!"

Raible shook his head at the woman. Sometimes, her maternal antics were just too much for him to stomach seriously and there was nothing to do but laugh. One of the former-slaves detached herself from the lamenting woman's fawning grasp and hesitantly approached him.

"Are you Raible the Strategist?" She asked hesitantly.

"I am."

"I was told to give you this." She extended to him two envelopes.

The first was a dirty packet containing a grubby piece of paper with a full report from Ryou written across it, front and back. The second, he opened to find a nothing but a small card of very fine stationary. The only thing the card contained was a simple drawing of a small flower in blue ink –an azure pimpernel.

…

Prince Imperial Sincline entered the throne room hesitantly. It was a common occurrence for his father to summon him, however, just because it happened often did not mean it was not something to be feared. Emperor Daibazaal rarely called for someone unless it was to berate and belittle them in a public forum. Occasionally, he would rough them up and even kill them when he had the inclination. Sincline was tentatively confident that his father wouldn't kill him, but this did not sooth the threat of bodily injury.

The Prince Imperial took a deep breath to calm his nerves and knelt before the Golden Throne. He did not look up when he said, "You summoned me, father."

"I'm very displeased, Sincline." Said the king. He was almost always displeased, so this was not news. The question was: Was it the prince that he was displeased with? and, How pain would he have to suffer before the Emperor was satisfied? "We keep lousing slaves to this ghost, this phantom the Azure Pimpernel."

"He's freed barely a handful of slaves, father." The prince said, barely raising hi head, certainly not lifting his eyes. "I'm sure we've lost more between Golion freeing entire planets and the rebels raids." This was very true.

"Golion and the rebels we can strike back at." His father growled. "They have names and faces and weaknesses to exploit. This Pimpernel is a phantom. I cannot strike at him for I do not know who –or even what- he is. Unchecked he could stand to become as big a problem as the Golion team."

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Sincline growled.

"I want you to find out who he is and bring him before me!"

At this the prince did raise his head. "What? But, father, he's only one man. Surely, my time would be better spent-"

"Do not interrupt me, boy!" Daibazaal snarled. "You've been rather useless to me of late, always bungling the simplest of tasks. This is your chance to make it up to your poor old father and do something right for a change."

Sincline lowered his head. "Yes, father. But where would I begine?"

"Use you're head, boy! Its that thing that sits between your shoulders. An azure pimpernel is a flower that only grows on Altea, ergo the Pimpernel must be Altean. Start there. I am sending you to Altea as an under the pretext of wanting to arrange a piece between our two planets." He spat the word 'peace' out as if it were something vile.

The prince's mouth watered at the idea of a peace between Galra and Altea. It they were no longer enemies then Princess Fala would no longer have a reason to spurn his advances. Her rejections would turn to acceptance and he would finally be able to take the beautiful young monarch as his own.

"Stop drooling, boy, and act like the prince you're supposed to be and not the rutting dog you are!" Daibazaal's fist impacted the armrest of the Golden Throne making a loud and painful sound that made Sincline flinch and remember that his father was never hesitant about turning that fist on him. "I do not desire a pease with Altea, that is just a cover so that they don't boot you right back off their planet the minuet you land. I want you to learn the identity of the Azure Pimpernel. When you know who he is, or even better yet, if you find the actual physical man, bring him before me to face Imperial justice."

"Father, this will be a very difficult task and-"

"And you still here?" His father cut him off.

…

(A/N: Okay, so I'm writing this mostly because I need a break from my other story. So, be forewarned that this is not a priority and is not likely to get finished. I suggest you don't get to into it. Its not even that good anyway.)


	2. He's Very Deep

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own The Scarlet Pimpernel by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: Okay, so I'm just getting more and more psyched as the theater date draws near –Thursday if you're curious- and I find that I'm focusing on this story more than my main one. For that I apologize. But I'm about 70 percent sure that after Thursday my enthusiasm will be spent and my obsession with the Pimpernel will once again to dormant and this fiction will be abandoned and forgotten and likely not finished.)

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter Two: He's Very Deep

Not long after refugees from Galra began arriving on Altea, fleeing the terror and hardships of Imperial slavery, Princess Amue of Heracles also landed. Princess Fala was overjoyed to see her cousin whom had been working along side Shirogane Ryou and his rebels for months. Words could not express the relief Fala felt at seeing her cousin alive and well. The two women could often be seen taking long walks in the castle gardens or sitting down to tea in one of the many common areas of the castle grounds.

Amue told her Altean cousin about their struggle against the Empire, a slight blush always coloring her delicate fair cheeks always at the mention of Ryou's name. The Heraclesian princess was smitten with the young rebel and Fala found this to be a subject of great amusement. And then the topic of conversation would turn to that illusive and mysterious character, the Azure Pimpernel…

"And so, who do you think he is?" Fala would ask with interest, leaning in conspiratorily close to her beloved cousin. "Do you think he might actually be Ryou? Ya know, he always does were that blue shirt all the time…"

At this Amue would laugh, a bright cheerful sound like the chime of a bell. "No, Ryou's not the Pimpernel, he's just as interested to know who he is same as everyone else. Can you imagine what our little group could do if we could communicate with him freely?"

"How _do_ you communicate with him?" The Altean princess asked.

Her cousin shrugged, the motion making the fabric of her dress rustle softly. "We don't really. He's always the one to contact us. Usually it's noting more than a hand written note with a date and time and a few basic instruction. The notes are never signed, at least, not with a name; there's just always a drawing of a small blue flower at the bottom of every card."

"Oh, he sounds so mysterious!" Fala said, almost giddy at the idea of the phantom like champion of justice.

"Ya know…" Now it was Amue's turn to lean in conspiratorially. "There's no real evidence to suggest that the Pimpernel is male. The Pimpernel could be a woman. In fact, _you_ would be an excellent candidate to be the Azure Pimpernel."

"Me?" The princess blinked her summer-sky blue eyes in shock.

Amue nodded. "You're Altean, an azure pimpernel is a flower that only grows on Altea. You're a very beautiful woman; a flower is a common metaphor for a beautiful woman. You're a princess and have the power and resources to do exactly what the Pimpernel does _and_ you pilot Blue Lion. You're a beautiful Alean flower that pilots an azure mech."

At this Fala laughed, a warm velvety laugh that always managed to warm the hearts of those who heard it. "You do realize, Amue, that everything you just said –minus be Altean and the piloting the Lion part- everything you just said could apply to _you_ as well. So, Ryou's not the Pimpernel… is it you, then?"

Before the Heraclesian princess had time to answer, Kogane Akira, Chief of the Golion team and pilot of Black Lion entered the common area when the women were taking tea.

"Oh god, not you too!" He moaned. "Gah! Ever since people started coming over in droves that's all I've ever heard about! The Pimpernel this! The Pimpernel that! Its damned annoying to all the rest of us brave men risking our lives against the Empire!"

"Sounds to me like you're just jealous." Fala cast a wiry smile sideways at him.

"Kogane, you're a dashing young hero-type, surely you must know who the Pimpernel is!" Amue cried.

"Oh god! Don't put that out there!" The Black Lion pilot groaned. "The moment any of these silly women starts to think I might know him I'll have them hanging off me in droves with their endless questions. Contrary to what Marvel and DC might have you believe, us freedom-fighting dashing rogues don't all know each other or hang out in super-secret clubs."

An idea occurred to Fala then and a suspicious grin spread over her lovely face. "Are _you_ the Pimpernel, Kogane?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." The Chief shook his head and sat down. He poured himself a cup of tea, adding a single sugar cube and a slice of lemon to it. He sipped the tea experimentally before adding another lemon slice. "I actually came here with some good news. Or bad news depending on how you look at it."

"Oh?" Both women replied in stereo.

"Daibazaal wants to organize a peace treaty with the Leo Alliance." Kogane casually announced and sipped his tea.

"That's _wonderful_!" Fala all but leap from her seat in sudden excitement. She walked circles around the table and did a little pirouette-like twirl. "I never would have thought I'd see that day! Oh, this is fabulous news! What are you talking about 'or bad news'? You're crazy!"

"He's sending Sincline as his envoy." The Chief added in a flat detached tone over the lip of his teacup, his eyes watching the princess to gauge her reaction. "The cad will be living here in the castle until the terms of the treaty can be agreed upon. You'll get to see him every day."

"Oh." Fala sank back into her seat. "Well, poo. That _is_ unfortunate news."

…

The intercom in the prince's stateroom aboard his flagship buzzed obnoxiously breaking the nearly tranquil silence of his cabin.

"What is it?" The Prince Imperial growled into the comm.

"We have entered Altean planetary space and are begging our final approach now, sir." Came back the deck officer's uneasy reply.

Sincline switched off the comm. after muttering a curt 'thank you'. He picked up the book he had been reading prior to the interruption. A small but thick hand written book in an old and scuffed leather binding. Not a printed book but rather a journal –his mother's journal. Prince Imperial Sincline, only child of the Emperor Daibazaal and heir to the throne of Galra was also the son of a slave –a slave that had originally been from Altea.

He packed the book back away in his trunk with loving care, it was all he had of his long dead mother the woman having died when he had been to young to form even a single memory of her. It was by simple chance that he had found it when he was younger. Growing up as his father's son had been no easy task and in his younger days the prince often found himself hiding from his father for numerous and varied reasons. One day he had been taking refuge under the bed in an unused chamber on the royal residential floor when his hand brushed against the journal's leather cover. It had been deliberately wedged between the mattress and the bed frame and the young prince had been curious at to what it might be and who could have hidden it. For as long as he could remember the room had never been occupied.

It wasn't until later when he was reading it alone in his own room that Sincline discovered it to have been written by his own mother. Upon the discovery, the journal became an instant treasure to the prince and he guarded it well. From it he had learned much, not only of the woman that had birth him but also of the planet from which she had hailed. He had become enthralled with Altea long before his father ever sent him there, is was no real surprise that he had quickly fallen in love with its princess.

Sincline closed and locked his trunk before wandering over to the window; gazing out its thick transparesteel pane he watched the planet rise up beneath the ship. A beautiful blue jewel suspended in a sea of ebony, as breathtakingly enchanting as the princess that would one-day be its ruler…

…

That evening a modest little party was held to welcome the Imperial Envoy. It felt odd to everyone involved, from Raible and the princess right down to the very last florist, to be throwing a welcome party for a man who had spent the past year in military campaigning against them. The irony of it all was almost too much to bare and, to some, felt more like some great cosmic joke than anything else.

The envoy, not failing to see the irony himself, spent the evening with an amused smirk seemingly permanently plastered over his thin blue lips. He did not mingle with those gathered, (not that anyone really wanted to speak to him in the first place) and spent the majority of the party simply watching those in attendance. That was, until his eye was captured by the ever lovely Princess Fala and he found his feet carrying her over to her little circle of women, all whispering to one another as women tended to do when gossiping.

"Rumor has it he was a slave himself." One woman was saying.

"No, no. He's a reckless buccaneer." Said another.

"I can't imagine the Pimpernel as a pirate." His beautiful Fala shook her golden head; waves of flaxen hair dancing around her delicately exposed shoulders.

"I hear he carried several whips!" Whispered a third woman.

"Good god! What in the world for!" Sincline interjected into the conversation.

The four women turned to face him in alarm, their cheeks practically blazing with their embarrassment. The Prince Imperial had to admit that the rosy cheeks looked rather appealing on the princess and he wondered what he could say to make her color like that in the future.

"We were just talking about a… uh… um…" Fala stammered.

"The Azure Pimpernel?" The Prince supplied, ginning in high spirits. "Do go on, I find it rather amusing the things people can come up with."

Silence fell over the group, no one daring to say another word about their mysterious phantom hero in the presence of a person whom they still considered to be an enemy. The women all exchanged surreptitious glances as if asking one another what to do.

Sincline smiled again, finding their suspicion of him (well founded though it was) and their hesitance to speak just as amusing as their earlier conversation. "Would it put your minds to rest, ladies, if I told you that you share no great secrets? For you see… I already know the identity of the Pimpernel."

"You lie!" All four women cried at once.

His smile broadened. His father might have sent him to learn the identity of the Azure Pimpernel, but that had not been by he had come. Sincline had agreed to his father's command and come to Altea as an Imperial envoy, not to fine a single lonely spy, but to banter with his beloved princess, and what hilarious banter this was!

"All the time." The prince admitted. "But not on this matter. I can assure you, the Pimpernel is not a man any one of you would readily like."

"No, my sister says his breath is sweeter than an Earther-rose." The woman that had proclaimed him to also carry several whips argued. "I'm sure I would fall in _love_ if he would cross my path."

"Ah, but only if you could overlook the warts upon his nose." The prince teased. "And possibly persuade him to take a bath."

"I've head he's eight feet tall and yet quite graceful!" Cried the woman who proclaimed him to also be a pirate.

"Wrong. He wobbles when he walks and often twitched when he talks." Sincline's grin broadened at their grimaces of displeasure.

"Is he a dolt?" Fala asked.

The prince's attention was suddenly focused entirely on her and he wrapped one large muscular arm around her waist, pulling her closer to himself. He bent down because he was so much taller than her and whispered in his fair lady's ear, "Oh no, he's very deep."

He felt her shudder against him at the feeling of his warm breath against the curve of her ear. Such an intimate action was _scandalous_! And in front of an audience no less! The princess struggled out of his embrace, a second bright pink blush colored her dimpled cheeks.

"Don't… don't do that!" She gasped, suddenly breathless.

Sincline shrugged, not giving much of a mind for her lame reprimands. He was used to getting whatever he wanted and do whatever he wanted so long as it didn't displease his father. Consequences were still alien concepts to him that he was still getting used to. For the moment, however, he honored his princess' request not to crush her against his manly chest. He would be spending plenty of time on Altea (in the castle no less!), he would have more opportunities in the future.

"All this conjecturing could really drive a person insane." He said. "You should all give up on this Pimpernel and start looking at the _real_ men around you. It's a dangerous game, ladies; falling in love with a phantom."

…

Some time later, Fala stood off in a far corner of the ballroom next to Raible. She found the old man's presence calming and found that Sincline also kept his distance from the old strategist. Of course, every time the Galran prince did approach, the old man began bombarding him with questions and ideas for the possible treaty (something which the prince had shown little interest in to spite it being the whole reason he was here), never the less, that probably had something to do with the wide birth he was giving Raible.

"Are you okay?" He asked when the princess sighed heavily.

"Huh?" She blinked at him.

"When he grabbed you." The strategist explained. "I think the boys were about to jump out of their skins when they saw that. That damnable excuse for a prince really has no sense of personal boundries."

"I'm fine." Fala shook her head. "If only that were the worst thing he's ever done to me."

Raible shifted his weight uncomfortably at her implication but said nothing, instead thinking it best to change the subject. "Ya know… the Azure Pimpernel actually used to be the crest of one of the noble houses in your father's court back before the siege."

"Really!" She princess might as well have pounced on him like Platt on cheese at those words. "So then the Pimpernel might very-well be a member of my own court! Once I become Queen, that is. Why did you never say this before? Who is it? What's the family name? You knew the Pimpernel's name all this time and you never told anyone!"

"Calm yourself, princess." The strategist heaved a heavy sigh. "That house is all but gone. The only surviving member is old and arthritic and completely in capable of doing any of the things I'm told the Pimpernel has done. I'm sure he's never even been off planet in his life, let alone since the revival of Golion. No, it's more likely just a coincidence."

"Oh." Fala was suddenly downcast. "Still, I'd like to visit this man. Raible, can you arrange it?"

"Live but to serve you, Your Highness."

…

(A/N: So, its seems the roles are becoming clear… Sincline appears to be the Chauvelin of the story. Fala will no doubt become the Marguerite. So then… does that mean that Kogane is Percy? Heh… heh… heh… I wonder…)


	3. The Portrait

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter Three: The Portrait

Blakeney Hall was an old estate located not far from the Castle Gradam at all. It had once been a proud and well kept property under the reign of the later King Raimon, but through the years of Galran oppression and collateral damage from Golion's grappling with the fell Empire, it had fallen into disrepair and looked little more than a picturesque ruin.

Princess Fala, accompanied by Kogane and Kurogane, stepped out from her carriage onto the grass-grown lane that lead right up to the manor house's main door. It had once been a very nice gravel driveway, but as there was no one who cared to care for it, it seemed to have been swallowed up by the lawn.

The princess, with her companions in tow made her way up the cracked and broken steps leading to the front door, her dainty feet making the most delicate of _tap tap tap_ing sounds on the weather worn marble. Fala cast her eyes about for a bell to ring to alert the possible Pimpernel to their presence but saw none and so she instead rapped gently on the scuffed and scarred wooden door.

"T'ch. It's a ruin, Princess." Kurogane reminded her, placing his hands in his pockets. "You don't need to knock when entering a ruin. No one could possibly live here."

"What if the Pimpernel might?" She shot back, slightly annoyed with the Red Lion pilot. All the boys seemed to be annoyed with her fascination with the mysterious hero and now she was becoming annoyed with them.

"Then I'm sure you can apologize to him once we're inside." Kogane cut in, attempting to mediate a possible argument before it occurred. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind being put upon by the Princess of Altea herself, seeing as how over eighty percent of the slaves he frees are Altean. I've obviously got a soft-spot for them."

"How do you that?" Fala was suddenly very interested. "I thought you didn't care about the Pimpernel."

"I do like to be informed." The Golion Chief answered with a huff.

The princess was about to respond with some witty comeback that Kogane was secretly one of the Pimpernel's fan-boys, but the remark died on her lips when the mansion's door was suddenly opened by an old and wrinkled looking gentleman wearing a faded gray suit (that might at one time have been black) and had a valet's badge pinned to his lapel.

"May I help you?" He asked. And then, recognizing Fala as the crown princess bent in a creaky yet well-trained bow. "Ah, Princess, forgive me, I did not realize it was you. Please, come inside."

He lead them through the entrance hall with its dirty scuffed carpet and down an equally ill-kept hallway to a small parlor with wide tall windows (broken in places) that over looked what must have been a garden at one point in time. In the parlor two men already sat taking tea. One was old and gray but dressed rather finely, his cloth was of high quality and stylish cut, but wear-worn from age. He smiled when the princess was announced and stood on rickety old legs with the help of a solid wooden cane to give the appropriate gentlemanly bow to the royal heiress. The second man, to Fala's great surprise, was none other than Prince Imperial Sincline!

He also stood when she entered, but rather than bowing to her as would have been polite, the prince crossed the room and placed a kiss upon her naked hand before either she or her companions could stop him. The princess pulled her hand away the moment his lips had brushed it, wiping his kiss away on the material of her skirt.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded.

At this the Galran prince smiled. "Likely the same thing you are, my dear."

"And I thought you said you already knew the identity of the Azure Pimpernel." She scoffed t him.

"Ah, but did we not also establish that I lie quite often, darling?" He shot back without missing a beat. An affectionate smile played over his alien features.

"You'll never capture the Pimpernel if that's what you're here for." Kogane snarled, aggressively placing himself between the prince and princess.

"Hm, only time can tell that." Sincline scoffed. He then turned to the old man with whom he'd been sitting with before. "It seems my presence here is upsetting your new guests. I shall be leaving then to avoid any… altercations that my occur."

"Of course." The old man nodded. "Don't forget your book."

He plucked a small book with an old worn leather cover from a table that stood beside his chair. The valet crossed the room to retrieve that small tome from his master and hand it to the prince.

"I'll see myself out." With that, Sincline left.

Fala and her company took up seats of their own by the cracked and dirty window, light streaming in from the garden illuminating dust motes that danced through the air.

"So, what brings you to my humble home, Your Highness?" The old man asked.

"Are you the Azure Pimpernel?" The princess blurted out before she could stop herself. She flushed with embarrassment at the ridiculousness of her own question and wished sorely to take it back the moment it had passed her lips.

But the old man merely chuckled in good humor. "No, no. If only I were as young as spirited as that young man. But no, I am simply Armond Blakeney of Blakeney Hall."

"Oh." Of course he wasn't the Pimpernel. Just looking at him Fala could tell that just to stand was a labor for him, she was beginning to feel very foolish indeed for dragging her friends down here with her and bothering this old man just for her silly girlish obsession with a mysterious phantom hero.

"Lord Blakeney," Kogane began in sudden earnest, "what was Sincline doing here? What did he want with you?"

"Ah," Blakeney leaned back in is chair, "the prince had simply come to share with me an interesting story and to look at my gardens." He nodded towards the window. "They're a bit over-grown now, but the pimpernels are in bloom."

"Oh! Can we go see them?" Fala asked with just a little to much enthusiasm.

"T'ch. Jeez, Princess, you're becoming quite the fan-girl." Kurogane scoffed at her outburst.

…

Blakeney's valet showed them to the gardens that had long since been reclaimed by the wilds of the surrounding land. Flowerbeds were overgrown, their original inhabitants choked out by weeds and while flowers of different varieties. Shrubs and fruit trees seemed leaned listlessly, their branches heavy and trunks bent from lack of pruning. Garden statuary was split and broken from winder ice and lay on the ground beneath a blanket of fungus and moss. But growing everywhere, as if trying to cover the whole of the garden in a green blanket with blue speckles were azure pimpernel flowers.

They were small, no larger than Fala's thumb with five beautiful blue petals, the same color as the princess' eyes. She bent down and plucked one of the tiny flowers and placed it in her golden hair.

"They're lovely." She whispered. "But, I'm confused. Why has Lord Blakeney not bothered to maintain the upkeep of his estate? The garden I can understand, but the house too…"

Kogane and Kurogane simply shrugged their shoulders.

The valet cleared his throat. "His Lordship is rather old and has no heirs. He sees no purpose in repairing the manor house nor maintaining the surrounding property when there is not one else to appreciate it and the Galra Empire would just destroy it all again in their next attack."

"That's so sad." The overly empathetic princess sighed.

They stayed in the garden for another hour or so, Fala weaving a coronet of pimpernels while her companions looked on in boredom. Eventually, the valet left giving the excuse of making tea for when they were ready to return inside. The princess finished her crown of flowers and, placing it atop her head along with the pimpernel that was already there, stood to go back inside. The boys were more than happy to follow her.

Navigating the scuffed and broken corridors of Blakeney Hall was a bit of a trick without Blakeney's man to guide them and the trio quickly became lost. They wandered through corridor after corridor in search of the same parlor they had sat in earlier that day or else perhaps the front door or the exit to the gardens again. Something familiar with which they could reorient themselves.

Instead they found a painting. Or, rather, Fala paused to stare at a painting while the boys continued onward a few more paces before noticing that their princess had stopped a ways back. They retraced their steppes in the dust and gazed up at what had so captured their Lady's attention.

It was a portrait of a beautiful young woman with long strait golden hair that flowed over she shoulders and down her sides, framing a delicately round face and sumptuous round breasts concealed behind the fabric of a finely tailored blue dress. Her lips were full and pouty, the corners of her mouth turned upwards in a mischievously knowing smile as if she had just played a prank of the viewer but they just weren't aware of it yet. It was a familiar looking smile, but Fala couldn't quite place where she's seen it before or on whom.

"Does she look familiar to either of you?" She asked of Kogane and Kurogane when they returned to her side.

"Yeah." The Red Lion pilot nodded. "She looks kinda like you."

"They all look the same to you, huh Moody." Kogane shook his head.

"What blonds?" Kurogane blinked.

"No, women." The Black Lion pilot shot back.

"Why you…" Kurogane stepped in as if to strike his friend but paused when a soft _clunk clunk clunk_ing sound drifted down the corridor to grace their ears and turn their heads.

Lord Blakeney walked slowly with labored steps down the corridor towards them. It was his cane on the dusty floor that caused the soft _clunk_s.

"I sent my valet back out to the gardens to fetch you for tea but he said you had already left." The old man said when he neared them. "Ah, I see you've found my sister instead."

"Your sister?" The princes asked.

"Suzanne Blakeney." He nodded. "She was my older sister, but she mysteriously vanished one day, just spirited away without a trace. I only just recently learned what had happened to her."

"What did happen to her?" Fala asked, still staring at that familiar mischievous smile and wondering where she had seen it before.

At that Blakeney's face darkened. "I will speak no more on this matter." He said. "My sister's life was terrible and short and I do not wish to remember it so soon."

"Of course, I'm sorry." The princess turned away from the captivatingly familiar woman to give the old man a true and sincere apology.

They ended their visit to Blakeney Hall not long after that. Armond Blakeney was tired and ordered his valet to see his guests out. He apologized for his rudeness but he had had an eventful and trying day and had more news and visitors than he had had in over a decade.

It was only after they were in the carriage on their way back to the castle when Kurogane lifted his head and said, "Ya know, we never did get a clear answer as to what Sincline was doing there."

"Looking for the Pimpernel, I guess." Fala muttered. That is why he came to Altea and not any silly 'peace treaty' as he says. He hasn't discussed anything even remotely resembling a peace agreements with either I nor Raible –except for a stupid marriage contract- but he's asked and talked plenty about the Azure Pimpernel."

"That makes sense." Kurogane agreed, nodding. "Galra keeps loosing more and more slaves because of him every week. He's got to be a rather pesky thorn in Daibazaal's side."

"Hmph, well if anyone's going to catch the Azure Pimpernel, it will _not_ be Sincline." Kogane stated with a confidence that made one wonder.

…

(A/N: So, as anyone who's familiar with the _Pimpernel _can tell, I'm not following it much at all. The person who will turn out to be the Pimpernel in the end is not acting like the idiotic nincompoop that he should be. My "Marguerite" is not married to any one that even resembles a "Percy" (in fact, she's not married at all, much to the lament of our "Chauvelin" ) neither does she have a brother. Hm… what can our "Chauvelin" then use to bribe her with if not the life of a brother? And the Pimpernel seems to be without his League. How will the sequence of the "Grenville's Ball" play out without an Andrew Ffoulkes or other League member to pass or receive notes? Oh, one does wonder so…)


	4. Amue Departs

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own The Scarlet Pimpernel by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter Four: Amue Departs

Sincline did not stay on Altea the entire time he was the Galran "envoy". He would often travel too and from planet Galra without any more explanation than 'Work, work, work. You know how it is.' It was widely assumed that his trips were futile attempts to capture the Azure Pimpernel as every time he would go leave another shuttle of escaped slaves would arrive shortly there after claiming that it was the Pimpernel that had helped them.

When questioned, the escaped slaves would lamentably explain that they had never gotten to see their savior's face, instructions were given to them via notes signed only with the image of a small blue flower. One slave girl claimed to have heard his voice, or rather, what she believed to be his voice. It was gruff but soft and sounded almost as if he were trying to mask his actual voice as one might do when reading a character's dialogue from a story out-loud.

Fala listened to all this with wrapped attention. It was becoming painfully clear to all those around her that the Altean princess was quickly falling in love with the mysterious phantom-like hero.

And then Prince Sincline would return, looking tired and haggard and the princess' spirits would drop at the reminder that a relentless enemy ever pursued her beloved hero. Almost a month this continued for, until one day Fala became tired of it and confronted the Galran prince. She marched right up to him as he was still descending his ship's gangplank. There was the slightest of drag to his steps, almost as if he were walking asleep on his feet. His hair was wile and unkept and his eyes sported dark smudges beneath them as if he had not gotten much sleep during his little excursion back home. All these things were ignored by the Altean princess, however.

"You might as well give up!" She snarled at him as she climbed up his ships gangplank, meeting him in the middle.

"Wha?" He blinked at her startled.

"You'll never catch him!" She continued. "The Pimpernel is to clever to be caught by the likes of you. So brave and selfless a man as he could never fall victim to your evil schemes."

"Oh," He yawned. "My father said much the same thing, only instead of 'evil' he used 'moronic'. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a pillow and I don't want to stand it up."

He brushed past her, but Fala grabbed his arm at the elbow making him pause. "I'm not finished with you."

"No doubt." Sincline muttered. "But I'm in no mood to entertain your sad little-girl crush on a man that you would most likely despise if you ever were to meet him for real. You don't care about the man, my darling; you're only interested in the _idea _of the man. If you were to learn his true identity and meet him face to face, you would be severely disappointed."

"That's not true!" She snarled.

"It's a dangerous business, my dear, falling in love with a phantom." He continued. "Why, for all you know, his heart could already belong to someone with whom he's desperately in love with." At these words he lifted a lock of the princess' hair to his lips and kissed the golden strands affectionately. "Or he could be a selfish and petty man who's only doing all these 'heroic acts' as you call them for selfish and petty reasons. Now, as I've already said: I'm tired and want nothing more than a long nap."

…

"I can't believe you have to leave." Fala grumped to her cousin. She and Amue sat in one of the many common areas of the castle enjoying a quiet cup of tea. It had sort of become a tradition of theirs and the Altean princess was sorry to see it end upon the departure of her beloved cousin from Heracles.

"Things are nice and peaceful since Galra's stopped attacking Altea, but that doesn't mean that they've stopped committing _all_ their grievous acts against humanity." Amue reminded her slightly more naïve cousin. "The Pimpernel has been a great help to Ryou and I, almost half of the slaves he's freed have joined our militia, but with Sincline ever on the man's heals we both fear for him. Ryou wants me back to offer whatever help I can in both aiding the Pimpernel's work and running interference between him and the Galran forces that are constantly hunting him."

"I understand." Fala muttered. "But still, I'm sad to see you leave. It was nice having another girl to talk to."

"Oh, believe me, I know the feeling." The Heraclesian princess laughed then she sighed. "All of this would be so much easier if the Pimpernel would just reveal himself to us and let us know who he was. Its kinda hard to protect something when I'm not even sure what to protect."

"Must be difficult." The Altean princess nodded. "So, when do you leave?

"This evening."

"So soon?" Fala was disappointed to not have more time with her cousin.

…

As she had said, Amue departed from Altea early in the evening. The sun hd just set over the western hills when she climbed into her one-man shuttle. Fala and Raible saw her off, the Heraclesian princess had refused anyone more. Large pompous ceremonies were not suited to covert missions such as hers. Amue waved good-bye to her Altean cousin and Steward before taking off and shooting into the night and over the stars.

She was only several hours away from touching down on Galra when the enemy beset her shuttle. Two capitol ships poured countless fighters out of their hangars and she was quickly over-taken. They captured her alive, no doubt with the intention of returning her to their prince the next time he visited the homeland.

…

"You seem sad, darling." Sincline observed when he found Fala the next morning sitting alone in a public parlor of the castle, a cup of morning tea sitting untouched on its saucer in front of her.

"Must you always call me that?" She asked in annoyance. "I am not your 'darling' or your 'dearest' and you should not be addressing me so informally is the first place."

"Mm, you may look sad, but you're still as snappy and spirited as ever, sweet-heart." The prince sat across from her uninvited. "Could this have anything to do with your less adorable and more bitchy cousin leaving last night?"

"How did you know about that?" Fala's eyes flashed in suspicious surprise.

To this he did not answer, instead opting to pour himself a cup of tea and drinking it strait, no sugar, lemon or cream to speak of. "God, what I wouldn't give for some coffee!" He said after the first sip. "This Altean tea of yours is just so damn weak."

Fala had no mind to put up with his irritating antics that morning and stood to leave. Much to her great annoyance, however, he also stood and followed her out of the parlor.

"Can't you leave me alone ever?" She snapped. "Always you're hovering around me. Shouldn't you be sitting with Raible trying to organize a treaty between our two worlds as you _claim_ that is the reason why you're here? Or instead hunting down the Azure Pimpernel, as I _know_ is your real purpose. Why must to always bother me?"

"Its no mystery, my dear." He smiled an almost mischievous smile at her as if he knew something she did not. "I simply find your company to be much more enjoyable than stuffy old statesmen or mysterious masked-avengers. And besides, as I've said before: I already know who the Pimpernel is."

"And I do not believe you."

"Of course not." He smiled a mischievously knowing grin at her as if he had just played a prank but the princess just wasn't aware of it yet. Sincline stopped walking and grabbed her arm, turning the princess to face him, he backer her up until she was against the corridor wall and he leaned in close, inhaling the scent of her anxious excitement.

"What are you doing?" She breathed.

"Just wondering…" He whispered. The prince leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the side of her neck and smiled against the porcelain perfection of her skin when she gasped at the sensation. "You're so sensitive, Fala."

"Stop." She breathed. "This isn't proper. Let me go! If someone saw us it would cause a scandal!"

"Maybe for you it would…" There was slightest hint of a threat in his words but his tone was innocent.

"If you… If you care about me as you claim, you'll respect me enough not to do anything that could damage my reputation." She whispered in his delicately pointed ear, the sensation of her breath making him shudder in a way that the Altean princess did not like one bit.

"Of course, my darling." Sincline eased back, giving her her due space. "I imagine your believe Pimpernel wouldn't care for you if he thought you engaged in romantic trysts with the enemy."

"Don't scoff!" She was suddenly angry again. "He's twice the man you'll ever be!"

"And yet, he's afraid to show his face even here on friendly ground, among allies who want to work with him toward their mutual goals. If you ask me, darling, your Azure Pimpernel is nothing but a coward!"

Fala looked as if she were about to strike him but just then Kogane came striding down the hall towards them. He smiled at Fala and then frowned at Sincline.

"I was coming to see if you wanted to have breakfast with the rest of the team, but I see you've made other plans." The Black Lion pilot glared darkly at the Galran prince.

"The prince and I were just talking." Fala said, she moved to stand beside Kogane and perhaps a little behind him, placing her Chief and champion between herself and her self-proclaimed 'suitor'. "But I'd be happy to sit with you and the guys for breakfast."

The corners of Sincline's mouth turned downwards in the frown while Kogane's curled up in a smile.

"Oh, that reminds me, Sincline." He said. "I wrote a poem while you were away. I did have the chance to share it with you yesterday after you arrived but since I have you now…"

"I do not care for poetry." The prince scoffed. "A warrior has no need for such frivolities and weak sentiments."

"Even so, I think you might like it." That smile of Kogane's turned mischievous as he began a short limerick.

"They seek him here, they seek him there,

Those Galrans seek him everywhere.

Is he in Heaven or is he in Hell?

That damned illusive Pimpernel!

"Well, what do you think?" Asked the Black Lion pilot. "I think it's rather good. I've also got a few extra verses cooking in my head. I might just turn it into a song."

The prince's features were drawn into a silent snarl of displeasure. "Mm, how cute. Especially that line 'those Galrans seek him everywhere'."

"Yes." The Golion Chief nodded. "Because you see, I hear that they do…" he glared accusingly at Sincline, "… and that gives the poem a certain special something."

"I'm sure." His attention then shifted from the hated Black Lion pilot to his beloved Altean princess. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave you now, my dear. As pleasurable as your company is, I have made other plans for today. By your leave."

He kissed the princess' hand before executing an overly flashy about face and leaving back the way he and Fala had originally come.

"That man is more full of himself that I thought possible." Kogane muttered.

"I'm just glad he's not attacking every week." Fala shook her head. The two of them turned and began waling down the corridor in the opposite direction that Sincline had taken. "Though, I would like to know what these 'other plans' are that he mentioned. I don't much like the idea of him running around my planet freely."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Kogane assured her. "He's been watched since the first moment he arrived."

"Really?" She was relived.

"Mm-hm." Kogane nodded. "According to Raible he hasn't done much of anything suspicious. Although, he does go to the Blakeney estate often. We assume he's still looking for a link between Lord Blakeney and the Azure Pimpernel, but aside from that, he hasn't done anything particularly 'villainous'. Its kinda strange."

"Mm, he's so strange sometimes." Fala muttered.

…


	5. Curiouser

Disclaimer:

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter Five: Curiouser

Sincline often visited the Blakeney estate. Chances were that if he wasn't skulking about Castle Gradam hoping to catch the princess alone, he was at Blakeney Hall. At first, Raible had worried for the old Lord's safety, but the watchers reported that all the Galran prince ever seemed to do at the estate was wander the halls, not as someone searching for something (or someone) but rather like one who is trying to familiarize themselves with a place, as if trying to permanently fix it in their memory. It was also reported that he would sit for long hours with Lord Blakeney in the garden-side parlor or in the garden itself and… _talk_.

These reports were so out of keeping with what Raible knew of the alien prince that he wondered it his Watchers were watching the right Prince Imperial Sincline, or if they had somehow latched onto the tail of an imposter. But, no. There was ever only _one_ Sincline and apparently enjoyed having coffee with an old Altean lord in a crumbling mansion for no reason that was apparent to anyone save perhaps Sincline himself.

But then Raible got the crazy idea that maybe Lord Blakeney had decided to turn turn-coat and was working for the Galra Empire all along. Spying on Golion and such and now was aiding Sincline in his search for the Azure Pimpernel. But this idea was later dismissed as ridiculous. Lord Blakeney almost never left his estate and when he did it was a great drain on his feeble strength. No, Blakeney couldn't be a spy. But there did have to be a reason for Sincline's interest in the old man, Raible just hadn't found it yet.

And then he got a report that the Galran prince was helping Blakeney repair the manor house and nearly hit the floor in shock.

This was a development that merited some actual investigation rather than passive observation. Prince Imperial Sincline was a selfish and petty man who _did not_ help decrepit old men for no apparent motive simply out of the 'goodness of this heart'. He didn't even have any 'goodness' in his heart! Raible set out to the Blakeney estate the very same morning he read the report.

…

He was admitted by Blakeney's valet and the moment the Strategist stepped through the threshold of the old mansion Sincline's renovations became apparent. Holes in walls had been plastered over, old doors –cracked and broken had been replaced (hinges and all), the torn and dingy carpets had been pulled and the hardwood floors beneath sanded and swept clean in readiment for a new finish to be placed on them. Debris had been cleared from the halls and corridors and every now and again, as the valet lead him to meet the Lord, they passed under newly erected scaffolding.

"I never would have thought I'd see the day when Lord Blakeney would breath new life into this place." Raible commented. "It used to be such a beautiful estate."

The valet nodded his agreement but said nothing. He lead Raible out to the garden they found, not only Lord Blakeney sitting in new wicker chair, but also Prince Imperial Sincline, sawing on a heavy wood beam, shirtless with his back and shoulders beaded with sweat. When the report had said that Sincline was 'helping' Blakeney to repair the estate Raible had assumed the Watchers meant he was footing part of the bill or making suggestions here and there. The Strategist had never imagined the Galran prince was actually doing any of the work himself. The shock was so much that the old strategist nearly fainted from dismay.

But he didn't.

Blakeney's valet announced him and Sincline paused in his sawing, looking rather like a cat that had been caught with its paw in the fish bowl. The Strategist bowed to him as was customary and the prince gave a curt nod before turning from both Raible and his work to pick up his discarded shirt and attempt to reclaim whatever shreds of his dignity and 'bad-boy-prince' image he could. Blakeney, however, smiled up at the Strategist from his seat with warm friendly eyes.

"Raible, its been to long!" He said, attempting to stand. "How are you, you old dog?"

"Sit, Armond, no need to stand on ceremony between old friends." Raible cast a dismissive wave at Blakeney's attempt to uphold etiquette. Proper etiquette and protocol had already seemed to have been thrown out the window at Castle Gradam, there was no reason for it to be maintained here in a private garden between to old friends.

"So, what brings the Royal Strategist and brains behind Golion out to my humble home?" Asked Blakeney.

"I heard you were repairing the Hall." Raible answered in partial truth. His eyes followed Sincline as the prince finished buttoning and tucking his shirt before retreating into the house as if he wished suddenly to hide. "I came to see how things were going and it the Castle could offer any help."

"Oh, no, no, no." Blakeney shook his head, a smile on his lined face. "I expect you boys up at the castle have got your hands full rebuilding everything else that's been destroyed by Galra over the years. Let us who can pay our own construction fees do just that. The people's taxes should go to the people, not some rich old fart like me with one foot already in the grave."

"Oh, now you're just being melodramatic." Raible huffed at Blakeney's 'one foot in the grave' comment. "But speaking of Galra… I hear Sincline's been helping out with this place…?"

He left his question unfinished and it hung in the air between them for a long moment before Blakeney stood with much effort, placing most of his weight on his cane.

"Follow me, will you Raible?" He said. "I've something to show you and things to tell you that are best told behind closed doors."

…

Raible spent much time in Blakeney's study, the old man sharing his peace with the old Strategist. They were disturbed only once when the valet rapped gently on the newly fitted door to inform Blakeney that Prince Sincline had left to return to the Castle. After that, the men were left to continue their conversation in peace.

…

Upon his return to the Castle Gradam, Raible received word that Daibazaal with his son's progress with the 'peace negotiations' (the old Strategist could not help but laugh at the words) and so was now sending his adviser, the Occult-Science Witch Honerva to aid him.

Raible suppressed a groan at this bit of news, not liking the idea of having the evil witch under-foot one bit. He sat in his study and sulked for a time. He pondered what Honerva's coming to Altea might mean, and he pondered some of the things Blakeney had told him earlier that morning, still unsure if he believed them or not.

It was around his lunch time hour that another document was slid beside his plate with the 'URGENT' stamped across it in bold red letters. He read the report between bites of his cucumber sandwich and his heart sank. Apparently, Princess Amue's shuttle had been attacked on her way to Galra and the Heraclesian princess was once more held captive by the Empire.

Raible knew the news would break Fala's heart and he shifted his ponderings from Blakeney's words and Honerva's immanent arrival to how he was going to break the unfortunate news of her cousin's capture to his princess.

…

Daibazaal had not given Castle Gradam but time to prepare for their new Galran guest. The Occult-Science Witch's shuttle arrived only hours after the preceding message approach. Raible was hard-pressed to throw together an appropriate greeting party for the unwelcome witch.

The company consisted of himself, two attendants and Sincline, whom looked irritated and very put-out. The Strategist had to wonder if Daibazaal had bothered to give his son any forewarning of the witch's arrival or if he was just as surprised as Raible was to have another of the Emperor's lackey's under-foot. He glanced sideways at the prince, but he was avoiding the Strategist's eyes and Raible was once again reminded of Blakeney's words in the study.

The old witch descended her shuttle's gangplank at a steady hobble, but Raible knew that was an act. She might be old, but Honerva the Occult-Science Witch was as agile and spry and her face was ugly. She stopped just an arms length from Raible and gave a low nod that might have been a bow.

The Strategist offered some traditional but empty words of welcome and bowed to her in turn, but no lower than she had bowed to him. They exchanged a few hollow words of piece between their two countries; both know full well that they were meant on neither side. Then the witch turned to Sincline and gave a real bow, bending low at the waist and leaning greatly on her staff. The prince only nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgment of her action, his face was drawn in a scowl of displeasure.

"My prince, a word with you, if I may?" The witch rasped.

Sincline nodded and the two Imperials disappeared from the hangar.

…

The prince lead the witch to his own chambers within the castle. It was as private a place as they were every going to get and even it was riddled with cameras and microphones and other such spy equipment. Raible did not trust Sincline as far as he could throw him and had made absolutely sure that any words spoken or actions taken by the prince while on Altea would be recorded and reported. Watchers while he was out and about and recording equipment for when he was alone in his rooms. He had tried to removed some of it when he first moved in, as much as he could find. But the prince was sure he had missed some, Raible was to sly an old bastard.

He told none of this to Honerva, however.

"What is it, witch?" Sincline demanded once the door was firmly shut behind them.

"Your father is very disappointed in your failure to capture the Azure Pimpernel." Honerva replied curtly. "He has sent me to help you since you seem incapable of the task on your own."

"I'm perfectly capable." The prince snapped. "He just hasn't given me enough time."

"And how have you been spending the time he has given you, Your Highness?" The witch sneered. "Chasing the princess' tales no doubt. You forget I know you well. I bet you haven't spared a passing thought for the Pimpernel more than twice this whole time."

"That's not true. The Pimpernel has been ever present in my thoughts since I arrived."

She snorted at that. "Well, he'll be ever present in our dungeons soon."

"What do you mean?"

Here the witch smiled. "Fortune has granted us a boon, my prince. Our patrol ships had the great fortune of capturing the Princess Amue on her way to rendezvous with her irksome rebel cell."

"So?" Now it was Sincline's turn to scoff. "She knows as much about the Pimperne as you do. And even if she did know who he is, she'd die before telling us."

"Ah, but it is not hear who will deliver the Pimpernel to us, Your Highness." The witch's thin lips curled up into a malicious smile. "Your beloved Fala with give us the Pimpernel, in exchange for her beloved cousin's life."

"Fala?" A jolt of panic seized his hart and the prince stopped breathing for a moment before he once again collected himself. "She doesn't know who the Pimpernel is either. You're useless, old witch. Your plans are as pathetic as my own."

Honerva shrugged. "Perhaps. I guess we'll just see. But the Pimpernel is Altean, of that much we are sure, and she is the princess of Altea. The Pimpernel has the means and resources to travel between the two planets both often and with ease, this means he must be part of their nobility-class, as their princess Fala is the pivot around with they all revolve. It should be easy for her to single out the one that is most likely to be the Pimpernel and deliver him to us in exchange for Amue."

"She'll never go along with this." Sincline snarled.

"That depends on how much the Pimpernel means to her versus how much her cousin means." The witch shrugged again. "Either way, it's a win for Galra. If she refuses, we kill the Heraclesian whore. If she cooperates, we kill the Pimpernel instead. Either way, the Empire removed one irritation thorn in its side."

The prince was silent.

"Now then," Honerva continued, unperturbed by his lack of comment, "I hear that Altea is in the practice of throwing parties for newly arrived dignitaries. I want to go find my own rooms and freshen up. A girl must look pretty for ball."

She left.

The prince shook his head. There wasn't enough magic in the universe to make her look 'pretty'.

…

Hours latter, Raible returned to his office to go over a few last minuet preparations for Honerva's welcoming ball, when he saw, sitting atop the perpetual mountain of papers that populated his desk, as small piece of folded cardstock. Curious, the old strategist unfolded the note and read:

'_Its time we met, you and I. Meet me in the library at midnight.'_

The note was not signed. In place of where a signature would go, there was instead the drawing of a small flower in blue ink –an azure pimpernel.

…

(A/N: What's this? We now have two Chauvelin? Sincline and Honerva now. Or can it be that Sincline was such a terrible Chauvelin that he was fired? Then who is he now? What's his purpose in the story? And is Raible now our Andrew Ffoulkes or our Anthony Dewherst? Oh, I just don't know! Fala's still Marguerite, that much has not changed. )


	6. One or the Other

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own The Scarlet Pimpernel by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

The Azure Pimpernel

Chapter Six:

It was as Fala was getting ready for the ball that Honerva came to see her. The princess couldn't imagine what business the vile witch would have with her, but she had said it was urgent 'a matter of life and death', and so the had admitted the woman to her sitting room, though it gave her no pleasure to sit and smile in welcome for an enemy.

"Well?" The princess pressed when the witch said nothing. "What's so important that it can't wait for a better time to be said?"

Here the witch smiled, it was probably meant to be some version of apologetic, but on Honerva's lined reptilian face it looked full of malice and dark glee.

"I'm sorry to say…" she began "… that your cousin, Princess Amue of Heracles, has been captured by the Empire."

"What!" The princess exclaimed. Then she sobered and turned her head, looking sideways at the witch. "But I don't have to worry about her safety now that Daibazaal is intent on forging a peace with Altea. The Empire should turn her over as a sign of good faith."

"You're quite clever, princess." The witch observed. "So, you should also be aware that Daibazaal's peace if for Altea not Heracles. Altea should denounce her as a sign of good faith."

Angry color rose in the princess' cheeks and Fala snarled. "What do you want? Tell me plainly."

"I want the Azure Pimpernel."

"So does every woman alive." The princess scoffed.

"I want him for the Empire." The witch elaborated. "And I will trade him for the Heraclesian princess. Give me the Pimpernel and I'll give you your cousin, alive and unharmed."

"You ask the impossible!" Fala shot to her feet. "I don't know who the Pimpernel is. _Nobody_ knows who the Pimpernel is! I could never find him. How could I?"

"You're a very clever woman who's beloved cousin's life is at stake. I'm sure you'll think of something." Honerva pressed. "What is the Pimpernel to you but a masked phantom to scared to show his face to even his own princess for whom he fights. Not like your cousin, your only family save for maybe that aunt whom the writer's seem to have forgotten. Help me, and your cousin goes free. Hinder me and she dies."

"I… I don't know where I'd begin." The princess muttered.

"I know you're blond, but do try to use your head. Who among your court has both the time and the resources to travel from Altea to Galra often? Who among them is young enough and idealistic enough to take on the challenge? Who is clever enough and crafty enough to slip past our nets unheeded?"

"I don't know!" Fala wailed.

"Then find out!" The witch snapped. "Or else I shall execute Amue in the Pimpernel's place."

…

Leaning with his back to one of the free-standing pillars of the ball room, Prince Imperial Sincline stood, surveying the less than stunning throng of dancers. This little party, called a 'ball' for no other reason than to make it sound romantic and appealing, was not the merry little affair Raible had thrown for his own arrival. No, then the old strategist and acting Steward had been willing to believe the Prince had actually been sent as an envoy of piece, however ridiculous that notion sounded. However, Raible had no such hopeful illusions about Honerva and this 'ball' was nothing more than a hollow attempt to play along until he knew her real motives and mission.

The prince's eyes fell on Kogane Akira, the Chief of the Golion team and pilot of Black Lion. He and his team were sharing their Chief's little limerick with one of the guests. As Kogane had said he planned to do, the small but annoying verse had been expanded and the team's help had been enlisted to fine a suitable tune to turn it into a song. Sincline growled in irritation as small snippets of rhyme drifted to his acute pointed ears.

'He meddles in the Galran slaving, popping in-and-out each week,

Spoiling all their lovely little raiding, La! what cheek!'

The irritating verse was just bothersome enough to tempt the prince into sharing a few choice words of his own with you young captain, and maybe some choice fists as well, should the Earth-born plebian take the bate. But then Fala entered the hall and his attention instantly shifted, his whole being focused on the object of his unrequited passions and the Golion Chief was forgotten.

Her face was drawn in a strained smile, as if it were taking her a great effort to appear merry and not break down into tears. Her steps were measured and rigid and her eyes darted everywhere, taking in everything, missing nothing. And then, when she had surveyed all there was to see in the ballroom, her eyes passed over it once more. Slower this time, as if searching for a small illusive thing that would otherwise be easily missed. So, Honerva had told her then, informed her of her cousin's capture and offered her little bargain, the Pimpernel for the princess; and judging by Fala's look, she had accepted the terms.

Sighing, the prince stepped away from the pillar by which he had been lurking and approached his distraught princess.

"I'm sorry for the position you're in." He whispered softly to her, the words barely audible over the music of the ball. "This was never my plan. I had always wished to leave you out of this."

"I find that hard to believe." She snarled just as softly as he had whispered, her eyes never turning to face him, never pausing in their survey of the room. "How could you hope to keep me out of it? I'm the pivot around which Altea turns."

"I…" He faltered. "I am sorry for the part you're having to play in all of this… Had you… Had we been married and you my wife you would not have to suffer as you do. Such a cloak-and-dagger farce as this would have never been forced on you. You would have been sheltered and protected, pampered and provided for…" He might have continued, but now was not the time to remind her of all that he offered in return for her hand.

Suddenly, the princess turned to look him in the eyes. She stared up at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Sincline! You're the prince of Galra!"

"Oh damn, and here I thought my disguise was fool-proof!" He smiled down at her in jest. She was not amused.

"I mean you're in a position to do something."

"That depends what needs doing." He replied, already he guessed what she was about to ask and was wording his reply.

Fala's look turned from desperate to coy so suddenly that Sincline was nearly thrown off-kilter by it. "Do you love me, Sincline?" She asked, and swayed her hips provocatively in a manner that was most un-ladylike. "If you really did love me, you'd be willing to do _anything_ for me. Are you willing to do anything for me?"

"Within reason." He choked. He was finding it suddenly hard to breath, so often he had dreamed of his beloved princess behaving this way towards him and never had he imagined that she actually _would_ in the waking world! That alone told him it was a trick of sorts and made him wary.

"'Within reason'…" She scoffed. "You're a prince, next in line to be Emperor, what's 'unreasonable' for you? I've never asked you for anything before… no gifts, no treasures, nothing from your Empire or from you."

"You've asked me to leave you and your planet alone many times." He reminded her.

"Yes, but that's not a physical thing." She huffed and encircled her arms around his waist. "That's not something you can actually _give_, that's something you can _do_. Will you give me something, Sincline?"

"That depends what it is." He said, already guessing what she would ask for.

"My cousin, Amue. Will you give me Amue?"

"No." He answered flatly and suppressed a sad sigh as he felt her encircling arms fall away. His beloved princess stepped back and he desperately missed the feel of her closeness, even if it had been nothing more than an act to make him complacent.

"You're a selfish bastard." She snapped in irritation.

"I never deny it." He agreed. "I'm a selfish and petty man who only ever does anything for selfish and petty reasons. And, I am a bastard; but I don't see what my parent's lack of a marital status matters."

Fala let out a growing sigh and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"You're a clever woman. You'll think of something." Sincline said in an attempt to offer what little support his words might.

"I did think of something." She whispered. "I thought of you. One day, Sincline, you'll have the opportunity to be a better man and do the right thing."

"Oh, I love those opportunities." He said in lighthearted jest. "I love to wave at them as they pass by."

"You scoff, but you're half-human under that tough blue skin of yours. It's your people too that Amue fights for. Please… will you not help her…?"

There was a prolonged pause and then the prince straitened and, turning a quarter turn to his right, waved as if bidding 'farewell' to an invisible phantom or perhaps illustrating his earlier remark about opportunities to do good.

"You're hopeless." Fala whispered and then began to cry softly.

"Perhaps." He raised her chin to look at him, brushing her quiet tears away with the thumb of his gloved hand. "But I do have some help to offer you."

"What help?"

"My sources tell me that Raible has a message from the Pimpernel on him. Find it and get it and give it to Honerva and it just might be enough to save Amue."

"Why haven't you gotten it?" She now glared at him suspiciously. "Since you obviously already know about it and that it's contents would be valuable enough to bargain for Amue's life with."

"Because, my dearest heart, you need it more at this juncture." And then he smiled. "See, I can do nice things when the opportunity arises… within reason. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm a bit tired. I think I'll go take a nap."

And with that he left her side and crossed the room to disappear out of the ballroom.

Fala turned her eyes from him and instead searched the room for Raible. He was sipping a glass of wine conservatively and watching an old clock on the far wall intently. The princess glided over to him, not wanting to waste any time in doing what need be done in order to save her cousin.

"Good evening, princess." The old strategist nodded at her approach.

"Evening, Raible." She replied pleasantly and her voice _almost_ sounded as carefree as she was trying to make it. "Nice party."

"It would be nicer if it weren't for the _w_itch." He replied.

"Yes…" The princess' eyes suddenly fell downcast. "It would be much nicer if it were for Amue's safe return instead."

At this the strategist fidgeted as if suddenly reminded of something unfortunate and uncomfortable. "About that…" he began slowly, "I received a message not long before Honerva arrived. I'm sorry to say… um, I'm not sure how to tell you, Your Highness, but…"

"Amue's been captured again." Fala finished for him in a somber whisper.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The strategist nodded and then wrapped a comforting arm around his princess.

Fala had already known, of course. It shouldn't have come as a shock. But for some reason, hearing it from Raible made the horror of it more real somehow. Coming from Honerva there was always the possibility, however slight, that it was untrue and that her cousin had somehow managed to escape and get away. But from Raible… Raible only ever told her the truth. The princess swayed slightly on her feet, reeling.

"Are you alright, Your Highness?" The Strategist asked. "You look like you're about to faint, do you need some air?"

She waved him off. She had already been informed of Amue's capture, hearing the news a second time should not affect her so. Still, she felt like nothing more than getting away from this farce of a ball.

Raible lead her out of the main ballroom and into a small parlor where she could collect herself. Fala flopped down on a chase lounge and put her head in her hands. Her attention was roused, however, by the rustle of fabric and paper and when she looked up she saw Raible pulling a small note on cardstock from the cuff of his sleeve. This he read silently to himself a couple of times and shook his head as if undecided on what to think of it. The princess remembered Sincline saying something about Raible having a message from the Pimpernel on him. Could that little piece of cardstock be said message? Or was it nothing more than a love-note from a would-be admirer of his?

Whichever it was, it looked like Fala wasn't going to get the chance to find out because when he was finished reading the note, the Strategist extended the small card towards a low-burning candle and set the note a flame.

Startled, the princess rushed forward and grabbed the singed note, putting it out before the whole message could be destroyed.

"You Highness!" Raible gasped, startled. "What are you doing?"

Not wanting the Strategist to know of her true purpose the princess fell back on the sofa and waved the no longer burning but still smoking paper under her nose. "Why Raible, didn't you know that a burned paper is the second best remedy for faintness? Almost as good as a burned feather."

"I did not know." He said.

"I'll be fine soon." She assured him. Indeed, she was already fine, she no longer felt faint, although her blood was still pumping in her ears at the knowledge that she was in the process of betraying a good and decent man to save her cousin. Physically she was fine, but she still felt wretched.

The Strategist accepted her words and turned his attention to straitening his cuff, giving the princess just enough time to scan the message. When Raible had finished adjusting his costume she hastily folded the note back how it had been and handed it back to him.

"One moment more and I might have had the Lady's name." She smiled coyly hoping to thrown him off her actual intent.

"'Lady', You Highness?" He asked, confused.

"Honestly, Raible, entertaining love-notes at your age…" And with that she turned from him and bounced out of the room leave behind one very confused Strategist.

Honerva found her not long after that, the witch pulling the princess into a secluded alcove to talk.

"Well?"

"I found a note." The princess informed her, not liking this one bit.

"And?" The witch pressed.

"It was mostly burned by the time I got to it, but the last part read: 'in the library at midnight'."

"And how was it signed?"

"There was no signature." The princess shook her head, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. "There was only the image of a small blue flower."

"The Azure Pimpernel!" The witch smiled with a malicious glee that made Fala sick to her stomach. "You've done well, Princess. You might make an excellent spy. You're talents are wasted on being a pilot."

"Shut up!" The princess snapped. "I did what you asked. Now where is Amue? When will she be set free? I didn't do this for you; I did this for _her_!"

"Oh, you'll have your cousin." Honerva assured her. "But not until I have the Pimpernel."

The witch left.

Fala sank to her knees in the alcove and wept.

…

It was now only eleven thirty and the Occult-Science Witch had only thirty minuets until the Pimpernel's appointment in the library and she was anxious for the time to pass. As she approached the quiet library she tried to peer into the immediate future, imagining what kind of human the Pimpernel was and how he had managed to avoid capture for so very long.

When she entered the library the first thing she became aware of was the soft rhythmic breathing as of one napping in the silent seclusion of the library, away from the din of the rest of the ball. And true enough, upon a closer inspection, Honerva found none other than her own Prince Imperial Sincline splayed out on a small lounge, his eyes shut to all that was around him, his mouth slightly open. The witch stood glaring at her prince, placid, unconscious, at peace with himself and all the world around him and she was disgusted. Such a lazy, bugling fool was not fit to be heir to the Galra Empire.

But at least he wouldn't interfere with her plans. Following her prince's example, Honerva reclined in a luxurious over-stuffed armchair, allowing her head to loll as if in sleep, her eyes contentedly closed and she… waited.

…


End file.
